How Long Have You Felt Like This?
—SAGE
Ican’t stop the tears from falling. I hate that I feel this way, but there is a relentless voice in my mind telling me to wait.
“Sage,” she whispers, sitting up slowly.
I flinch, expecting her to be angry. I wouldn’t blame her if she was.
“Come here,” she says softly.
I crawl to her, wanting nothing more than to be in her arms. I collapse against her, my whole body shaking as I bury my face into her neck.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop,” she murmurs, running her fingers through my hair. “You have nothing to apologize for, Sage.”
“I couldn’t even finish what I started.”
“Then we don’t finish it tonight,” she says firmly.
I stare into her jade-green eyes.
“You’re not angry?”
“Angry?” She cups my face, wiping away the tears. “Sage, you just told me that if you seal the bond, you’ll lose me. Why would I be angry that you’re trying to keep me safe?”
“Because I want you,” I choke out. “I want to be inside you. I want to seal the bond and make you ním in every way possible. And I can’t.”
“I know,” she whispers. “I can feel it.”
She takes my hand and presses it over her chest where her heart is still beating wildly.
“I’m already neeth, Sage. We don’t need the bond sealed to know we belong to each other.”
“But what if—” My voice cracks. “What if we never can? What if the warning never goes away?”
“Then we’ll figure that out when we get there,” she murmurs, “together. But right now I’m just grateful you listened to the warning. Because I don’t want to lose you either.”
I pull her close, inhaling the floral scent of her hair.
“í amar thé,” I whisper. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
“I love you too,” she whispers back.
The canvas is cold beneath me when I wake up.
My wing is folded at an angle that’s going to make itself known for days.
Eden is still sleeping, her copper hair spread across my chest. She said she loved me like it was the simplest truth she had ever spoken, and I have never heard anything that frightened me more.
The morning light is pale, barely peeking through the window.
Nook is silent, content in the way it gets when Eden is relaxed.
I flex my wings, trying to work out the cramps when I sense something in the meadow.
Ashán stirs first to life. I sit up slowly, careful not to wake her.
I search through the window, but there’s nothing out there.
—EDEN
I’ve been awake for an hour, maybe longer. Sage is still sleeping behind me, his large hand spread across my stomach.
His breathing is slow and even against my hair.
I should wake him, but the thing at the edge of the meadow has been pulling at me since he came back to bed earlier.
Hunger bleeds into me. It’s the kind of hunger that’s been living in someone’s bones for so long they’ve forgotten what being full feels like.
It pulls at something in my chest, the specific ache I get when something is suffering.
Sage stirs behind me, pulling me closer.
“Vash’míren,” he whispers. (Good morning) His sleepy voice is doing terrible things to my sore body. He presses a lingering kiss to the nape of my neck. “Let’s stay in bed together all day.”
I hum, arching back into his heat, but the pull from the meadow tugs at my ribs again.
He props himself up on an elbow, his wings rustling stiffly. “I need to wash the gold from my skin before I start growing a forest in our bedsheets,” he mumbles with a sleepy chuckle. He stands, offering me a hand, his eyes soft and heavy-lidded. “Come with me. I promise I’ll make it worth it.”
I look up at him, my heart aching at the sheer love in his expression. “I’ll be up in a minute. I just need to stretch. Canvases are not comfortable at all.”
He studies my face for a heartbeat and nods, pressing a final kiss to my forehead. “Don’t be too long. I thought I could wash your body… with my tongue.” He smiles so big his eyes crinkle at the corners.
The bathroom door closes with a gentle creak, followed by the hiss of water.
The hunger from the meadow pulls at me again.
Just one look, I tell myself.
My bare feet are silent on the warm wooden floor. The morning air is cool against my skin as I step outside. The meadow stretches before me, mist clinging to the grass. At the edge of the clearing is a tall, antlered figure. The hunger crashes into me so hard I drop to one knee.
“Stop,” a voice rasps. “Please stop walking toward me.”
I can feel the tension radiating from him. “Why?”
“Because the closer you get—” His voice cracks. “The hungrier I become.”
I stay on one knee, the damp grass soaking into my dress.
“You’re starving,” I whisper. “How long?”
His jaw tightens.
“How long have you felt like this?”
He flinches, his antlers casting long, gnarled shadows against the mist.
“Always.”
I stand up, compelled by the ache in my chest, taking slow steps toward him until there’s no more than a foot between us.
“How do I make it stop?”
Conflict rolls off him. His head tilts, his eyes, dark pits of infinite longing, fixated on where my pulse jumps in my neck.
The tips of blood-stained fangs peek out from his lips. The hunger in my stomach spikes so sharply I gasp. For a creature who’s never been able to feel enough of anything, the blood of someone who feels everything is probably the closest he’ll ever get to sustenance.
My fingers tremble as I pull back the sleeve of my gown, exposing the fair, blue-veined skin of my wrist.
“Is this it?” I whisper. “Is this what you need?”
He lets out a groan, stepping back from me.
“If I taste you, I am not sure I will ever be able to let you go.”
“Then just a little,” I whisper. “Just enough to help. I won’t let you take too much.”
“You don’t understand.” His voice cracks. “Once I start, the hunger inside of me will demand everything. Your blood. Your life. Your soul.”
“I don’t believe that,” I murmur. “I trust you to stop.”
His eyes widen. “Why?”
“Because I can feel you,” I breathe. “And underneath all that hunger, you don’t want to hurt me. You’re terrified of hurting me.”
His hand catches my wrist, his long fingers shaking as they wrap around my forearm.
“Just one taste,” he whispers, more to himself than to me. “Just enough so I know what it’s like to finally be full.”
He brings my wrist to his mouth, his breath hot against my skin. The sharp points of his fangs graze my pulse, and my heart hammers.
“Are you certain, Eden?”
I nod.
“I am sorry,” he breathes. His fangs sink into my flesh; the pain is piercing, but it fades almost instantly, replaced by something else.
A strange pull, almost as if he’s drawing every emotion I’ve ever felt through that single point.
Joy. Sorrow. Love. Fear. Everything rushes out of me and into him.
His hunger finally eases. He moans against my wrist, drinking deeper.
“Okay,” I rasp, feeling the pull getting stronger. “Th-that’s enough.”
He tries to pull back, but he can’t stop. My knees buckle as a roar shakes the earth.